Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

7

Mhera felt suddenly small, and tears rose in her eyes. Koreti took her hand and drew her to sit on the plinth where the Blessed Sovereigns stood. Sitting on such a honored monument was not allowed, but the only ones who could see them at the moment were the guards at the large main doors. The palace guards had long since learned to choose their battles with the royal children and Mhera knew they wouldn't come down to reprimand a prince and the lady for so small an infraction. They'd save their energy for broken windows.

"Mhera. Things are changing. Have you felt it?"

Mhera looked at him unhappily, unsure what he meant. She knew she had felt a change within herself: she was frightened, now, and sad.

"I'm getting older. I'm growing up. I'm going to be a man soon."

"No you aren't," Mhera said. "You're just a boy."

"I'm almost thirteen. I'm getting too old for things like these." He took his wooden sword out of his belt and held it out to her; she reached for it and clasped it to her chest. She stared at him with betrayed eyes as he continued. "It won't be possible for me to spend as much time with you when I start next year's courses. There is a lot expected of a prince."

"You don't care about me any more," she said. She tried to make the words sound angry, but they were only hurt.

Koreti shook his head, smiling sadly. "No, Mhera, that's not it at all." He reached out and put his arm around her. "You're like my little sister. I'd do anything for you. That's why I want to tell you this, so that when things change, you know it is because ... it's just the way things are. Not because I'm choosing it—not exactly. I want to be a good prince. Maybe emperor, someday. But it doesn't mean I'm leaving you behind. Anyway, soon you'll be focused on other things, too. Growing up."

"No I won't," she retorted. "Not for a long time. And you'll be off studying, and playing in the practice yards, and—and probably getting married!"

This last would be the ultimate betrayal. She thought of a faceless wife for him and hated her instantly. She thought of him with children. She thought of him as an emperor, and that, at least, softened her heart.

Koreti would make a good emperor; he was the shining prince. He excelled at his lessons, he was charming, and everyone loved him, even though he caused his fair share of trouble. Besides, Emperor Korvan had time for her. Perhaps Emperor Koreti would, too.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Koreti laughed. "Father has two other sons to match up before he can even think about me. Anyway, I'm not saying this to upset you; I'm just telling you so we can both be prepared. When people grow up, they change, I suppose. It's the way things are. Only, I want to take care of you—I'll always be here for you."

Mhera looked away.

"You should tell me. If you care about me even a little, tell me what's wrong. I can't help you when I don't know. Time is going to separate us, and our responsibilities will, too, but as long as we trust each other and talk to one another, we'll still be friends."

They sat in silence for a while, Mhera holding the sword hugged against her chest. She felt so young compared to Koreti. She wished she were the elder. She wished she could be preparing to grow up, too, so she would not be left behind. The changes were coming on fast, and they hurt her like they did not seem to hurt Koreti.

At length, though, she gave in. She would give all her secrets away if only Koreti would not forget her or leave her behind as her parents had.

"It was like a dream," she said.

Koreti waited.

"It's like dreaming, only you're awake. I saw something, like a picture, in your mother's mirror."

"Has this happened to you before?"

"No. Not really." But Mhera was remembering how she had smelled the earth from her balcony window when she'd seen the baby buried, and how the scent of the flowers had come to her across Esaria's chamber, although there were no flowers there.

"Then perhaps it was just—just a spell. Maybe it's nothing. What did you see?"

Mhera would not look at him. "I saw Empress Esaria."

"Mother?" Koreti smiled at this, and his smile was a sun. He was a handsome boy. He would make a handsome man. "Well, of course you saw her, Mhera. She was sitting nearby. You saw her reflection, that's all."

Mhera shook her head. "It wasn't her reflection, Koreti. I'm not silly enough to get scared of a reflection."

"Well, then, what was she doing in this—this dream of yours?"

She didn't reply at first, because she did not want to say it. To say it somehow made it real, and she did not want to make this terrible thing real.

"Please, Mhera. You're worrying me. Tell me. Do you think I won't believe you?"

"She's ... She's dead. She's dead, Koreti. In my dream."

There was a silence as Koreti digested the words. Mhera watched his face, seeing how what she'd said had shocked him. And of course it had: Esaria was an eternal figure in their minds, especially his; the thought of her death had probably never occurred to him before. Like the emperor, Esaria would go on forever.

Koreti had not seen death, though, and Mhera had.

When the prince spoke again, he sounded confused and, for the first time, dismissive. "It's just a dream, Mhera. It doesn't mean anything."

Mhera could hardly have expected anything different, but she felt the sting of his words like a thorn in her heart, and she was afraid.